The Press., 1887-06-09
kFor The Press.l

For half hour I have been sitting here by an open window. grooming an old cradle tune-"Rock Bye Baby"-half forgetful but the dear sunshiny head is settling down upon my arm in infant slum- Der, the same monotonous creakings some where aboutthis old spring rocker dots all the whole and quarter notes of the nursery lullaby in its old time way; but upon the messy maple the rock and the oriole re- sponsively chant in doloroso-mockery- mockery. And within, the photo on the dressing case, the torn, soiled picture books, and the "motley braided mat, whereon she sat, all, as they haunt my vision, re-pronounce the words
 ''Life is thorn-crown, wear it,
 Life IS @ burden; bear it.
 Tho it breaks your heart in twain,
 Tho the burden crush you down,
 Close your lips and hide your pain
 First the cross and then the
 Question of rewards and punishments and conditions-the white throne, the open book-the judgement and the solemn Thus saith the Lord. But He will never punish his people for making mistakes, ignorant, fool-hardy sins of the jumping out-of-the- frying -pan-into- -the-fre variety, and if Heaven, after all, should be the kind of place little Clo Bentley in "Gates Ajar" had been taught it was, why, then the day is too warm and wearisome to ponder the subject of future existence at all, for you remember she thought we should Glt just h0Ue to sta1ad there.
 But If the force of circumstances oblige us to speculate, 'twere healthier to take a rosy view of everything earthly, la Dr. Talmage. And if any have had to rough 1t the thought is comforting that our grandchildren will surely have a good time, there1n be no signing or frettin9 a hundred years hence-no washing away the facial lines of care and sorrow, and drying with the chamois skin towel &C., cording to the mysteries of cosmetics in our day-for if everybody is going to be happy and sing all the while-and sing thro' every nerve and fibre of their being, wrinkles and gray hair will be slow ac- cumulating. Then how gay and blithe- some will be the the farmer and the farm CTS wife Only three hours work day, no poor crops at that-no waste places-plen- ty everywhere, all orchard and garden from hamlet to metropolis. No halting 'twixt two opinions, whether to patronize creameries or to go on working over and molding the twenty pounds weekly with the tired rheumatic right arm. Upon every rocky knoll will grow the dewberry instead of the dogberry, and instead of the thistle will blossom the valley lily and the perennial rose instead of the irregular old church green, the summer walk and the summer drive of the future will be athwart symmetrical, traversable, well coped park, and around the shores of our old historic, geographic, rhetoric lake Wangumbaug. But our dear old parish will never swing so far out of sight but the ear of budding womahood will still catch the matutinal notes from the lips of motherhood, advising Harriet, wash those dishes, and make the beds be- fore you go to school P and baby nerves at evening will be soothed with the same sweet "Rock a Bye Baby, Upon the Tree Top," which has lately been so sweetly rendered and made effective by child panto- mime, under the instruction of the popular Harrington Concert O. of Boston, who have recently held 10-days musical con- vention in this village at the Congrega. tional church. And large number availed themselves of this rare opportunity for voice culture and training in progressive music. The closing entertainment was rich treat, varied with symphonious melo- dies which touch the heart as well as the ear-merry glees, trios and impressive an- thems that interweave the past and pres ent. Such service is without an equal {; the student will now thrum the instrument with fresh ambition and knowledge. And the results of the brief course of practice permeates the social circle, the village choirs and schools and the boat song and the street ballad have au added gusto, but such temp. as to-day's (21st), and drouth at that, is suggestive that the first four lines of Mrs. Heman's poem is the proper stanza to set to music